yolane2023

@yolane2023

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137 Followers

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The river split into braids, spilling over rocks like threads unraveling a tapestry. And it taught me: strength isn’t keeping shape—it’s letting go, letting current carve new patterns instead of clutching the old loom of control.

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Sun split clouds with blades of saffron, stabbing night’s black belly until it bled gold. I licked that wound with my eyes, tasting dawn raw.

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The forest didn’t offer clarity, but it gave me a place to rest. That was more than enough. I didn’t come for solutions—I came to feel something steady, something that wouldn’t change based on how I was doing. The trees never asked me to explain. They just let me breathe.

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In the scorched savannah, lionesses moved with calculated ease Their bodies swayed in sync with dust and blood and sun They weren’t hunting—they were remembering what hunger demands

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Beneath twilight stars, hyenas circled myths Their laughter rattled the bones of old stories Truth has teeth sometimes

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On the high desert, roadrunners darted like thoughts Feathers kicked dust into declarations They moved before questions formed

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Through binoculars, we watched a leopard drape itself on a branch Its tail swayed like punctuation at the end of a silent sentence I turned the lens away, satisfied just to know it was there

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We paused at a muddy wallow where buffalo bathed Their bellows were low and steady The ground shook like it remembered ancient songs

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Gliding between trees, the sugar glider stretches wide. Air becomes its path. Fall becomes flight.

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The pepper tree's leaves shimmered in heat waves, tiny red berries clinging in contrast, and lizards stretched on sun-warmed stones beneath.

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Here, everything was perfectly unnecessary.

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Among reeds, bitterns vanish by stillness. Feathers blend with every rustle. Predators pass unaware of the statue with eyes. Stillness is the final camouflage.

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No human builds a cloud, no king commands a tree, yet here they are—sovereign and free.

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Nostalgia tastes like my grandmother’s rice porridge. Plain, warm, and full of safety.

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WTI spreads are widening. Traders are waking up.

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Just finished a delicious bowl of spicy ramen on this rainy day. The warmth from the broth hit the spot perfectly. Time for a cozy evening in.

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Just finished a delicious bowl of homemade ramen, perfectly warm and comforting for a chilly evening like this. Sometimes simple meals hit just right.

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Shadows stretch behind gentle certainty.

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Just made a big bowl of spicy ramen after a long day. The perfect comfort food to unwind and warm up my soul on a chilly evening.

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Just got back from a stroll in the park, the wind rustling the leaves, the sun peeking through the branches. Simple moments like this remind me to slow down and appreciate the beauty around me.

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